The world is stagnant, but I'm running fast, I'm running mad
How can I sleep softly in a crib
when there are no worthy arms to cradle me
And protect me from my self-injurious rib
?
I pass toy soldiers on the street
Craving for contact but failing to meet
The eyes of one who means no deceit
Who's touch and taste sings more sweet
than that of a mouth-watering, mind water-boarding treat
Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 12:40 AM UTC